Unexpected
by charlotte.natalie
Summary: John Munch never planned on falling in love again.  Jenna Arsetti just had love ripped out of her life.  What happens when fate and luck intervene?
1. Chapter 1

On the night of their first date, John Munch wasn't planning on doing any grocery shopping. It had been a long week, and he had been counting down the minutes to the end of his shift all day. Despite his burning desire to go home, open a bottle of wine, and find something interesting to watch on television, he began to realize that he couldn't think of anything in his fridge that seemed appetizing. As much as he didn't want to make any stops, John realized that a trip to Randazzo's was in his immediate future. The homemade chicken and potatoes were calling his name, and a couple of Italian chocolate chip cookies would be the perfect beginning to the weekend.

Randazzo's Market was an Italian grocery store about two blocks from his apartment. For a long time, he had just assumed they just sold fruit and vegetables, and chose to shop at the A&P. One day, he had gotten a flyer in the mail, and was surprised to see the great variety of items they carried. He decided to pop in early one Sunday morning, and was impressed with the items and the service he received. Although he still shopped at the A&P, he often popped into Randazzo's for special treats or to pick up a nice bottle of wine.

His favorite cashier was a girl named Jenna. She rang him up quite often, and he had found himself drawn to her. John was impressed with how she could be efficient, but still be friendly and carry on a conversation with her customers. Most of the other cashiers struggled to have that balance, and she made it look effortless. She seemed to be a friend and a reassurance to the other cashiers, and he'd often see them talking, and then quickly stifling their laughter when customers or their manager came by.

He'd never admit to it, but John had a bit of crush on her. She seemed like a genuine person, and he was sure she was as friendly outside of work as she was when she was on the job. Although he had never seen her without her uniform on, she was beautiful on the outside as well. She was shorter side, with black hair and green eyes. She seemed to be constantly drinking diet drinks, but he thought her weight was perfectly healthy, not that he'd ever comment on it. John Munch may have made stupid mistakes in the past, but commenting on a woman's weight certainly wasn't one of them.

As he walked through the displays, he took a quick look at the cash registers, and was happy to see Jenna at her typical post. He had been a little concerned about her lately. She seemed to have quite a bit on her mind for awhile, and then a little while later, she took some time off, which was very rare for her. All of her fellow co-workers had been pretty tight-lipped about it, but he knew just from the looks on their faces that something was wrong. When she came back, she seemed to be there all the time, and although she was friendly as ever, her smiles and conversations had seemed forced. He was happy that she seemed to be doing better. Although he didn't know much about her, he was sad to see that she was in pain.

That night, she was alone at the register. She recognized him first, and gave him a smile and a wave. He came over, and began emptying his basket. "Hey Jenna. How's it going?"

"Oh, pretty good, John. We're having a quiet night an-," she stopped short, and sneezed into her sweatshirt sleeve. She sniffled, and reached into her apron pocket for a tissue. She blew her nose, and rubbed a little bit of hand sanitizer in her hands.

"Bless you, Jenna. I've noticed the cold has been going around."

"Thanks, John. It's been kinda rough, but I'm feeling better than I did yesterday, so that's good."

She pressed a couple of buttons, and looked up at him. "It'll be $12.37."

He pulled out his credit card, and swiped it through the reader. The receipt came out, and she handed him the paper and pen for his signature. He wasn't sure what came over him, but as he signed, he looked up at her. "Jenna, do you have any plans for dinner?"

Her entire body snapped to attention, and she looked up, surprised. John could have kicked himself; she was sick, and probably just as tired as he was. She probably had guys hitting on her all day, and he felt bad that he had just added himself to that list. He didn't have a chance in hell. One look at her face, and it was clear that she was trying to think something to say that wouldn't hurt his feelings. He leaned over the counter and grabbed his bag, trying to make the quickest exit he could.

She caught up with him at the automatic door. "John, wait."

"Jenna, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It wasn't the time or place."

"No, John. I-I actually don't have plans tonight. What did you have in mind?

On the night of their first date, Jenna Arsetti was happy to be at work and away from her apartment. In the last few months, being in her apartment was nearly unbearable. Everywhere she looked, there were traces of her late fiancé, Rob. Despite the fact that she had boxed up all but a couple of pictures, she could barely sleep through the night, and even then, she had to be on the couch in the living room. Her cold had only complicated the situation, and she was running on both limited sleep and limited positive energy.

Despite it all, she had a smile plastered on her face, and was managing to remain friendly with her customers. In the past, she had discovered that she had a talent for smiling, even if she was heart-broken on the inside. She had discovered this talent years ago, during her parents' divorce. Now, in the aftermath of, the death of her fiancé, and her miscarriage, she had kept a smile on her face, and for the most part, no one was the wiser. There were a few customers who saw through the facade, and she told them it was personal thing, and kept going. She had tried to keep things on a need to know basis with her co-workers, but the rumor mill opened up, and very quickly, she was hearing all sorts of stories about the personal time she was taking, and the fact the Rob wasn't coming by at night to walk her home. She saw no other option, but to reveal the whole truth to everyone. It was tough, but necessary. She wrote down exactly what she wanted to say, but could only read half of it before getting choked up, and handing her speech to the store manager, who had known since he became a neighbor of her mother. After that, the subject was dropped, besides a few sad smiles.

Randazzo's was strangely quiet for a Friday night, and the rest of the cashiers were off doing other chores or on a break. Closing time was coming soon, and despite the bad memories, heading home seemed like a fabulous idea. She had plans with her pajamas, a cup of tea, and a book, and was looking forward to a quiet night alone. Being alone at night was just about as tough as staying in her apartment, but between will power and working with her psychologist, she was slowly coming to terms with it.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of her regulars, a man named John, surveying the prepared food section. Through their conversations at the cash register, she had learned he was a police detective for the NYPD. His sarcasm had taken a little getting used to, but now she was able to roll with the punches, and even occasionally made clever comments right back.

She would've never admitted aloud before, and now it seemed in poor taste, but she found herself attracted to John. They were complete opposites, but that older, cynical, sarcastic detective had been making her smile since the first time she had waited on him. She had heard through the workplace grapevine that he had been one of the customers who had been curious and worried about her, which had surprised her, because she thought he just saw her as a cashier. Jenna wasn't sure what to make of the genuine concern he had showed, but she truly appreciated it. She also thought John was handsome, and combined with interest he showed, he seemed like the complete package. It was way too soon for her to date again, but that didn't mean she couldn't have a crush on him.

Jenna snapped to attention at the sound of a basket hitting the conveyor belt. She reached for the hot plate of prepared food, and began ringing him up.

"Hey Jenna. How's it going?"

Jenna looked up and returned his smile, as she reached for his box from the bakery. Knowing him, it was probably Italian chocolate chip cookies.

"Oh, pretty good, John. We're having a quiet night an-," she stopped short, and sneezed into her sweatshirt sleeve. Unfortunately, her cold was still lingering, and she stopped ringing him up to blow her nose. She sniffled, and reached into her apron pocket for a tissue. After blowing her nose, she threw out the tissue, and rubbed a little bit of hand sanitizer in her hands.

"Bless you, Jenna. I've noticed the cold has been going around."

Putting his items in a couple of bags, Jenna looked up, "Thanks, John. It's been kinda rough, but I'm feeling better than I did yesterday, so that's good."

Turning back to the register, Jenna pressed a couple of buttons, and looked up at him. "It'll be $12.37."

He pulled out his credit card, and swiped it through the reader. The receipt came out, and she handed him the paper and pen for his signature. Then, the completely unexpected happened. As he signed, he looked up at her. "Jenna, do you have any plans for dinner?"

Jenna snapped to attention, in surprise. She definitely had a crush on him, but was dating so soon a bad idea? But, then again, who said anything about a date? All John had mentioned was dinner. Dinner didn't have to be a date. And, to be honest, she really was hungry. And, she was going to be done with work in about ten minutes.

As she was about to answer him, she realized he was moving to the door as fast as he could. She nearly ran from the cash register to catch up with him.

She caught up with him at the automatic door. "John, wait."

"Jenna, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. It wasn't the time or place."

"No, John. I-I actually don't have plans tonight. What did you have in mind?"


	2. Chapter 2

John ran his purchases back to his apartment, while Jenna wrapped her duties at work. When he came back for her, she was waiting outside chatting with a fellow cashier, sipping on a cup of coffee while her friend had a quick cigarette. He fed the parking meter, and when he turned back, Jenna was giving her co-worker a hug good-bye. She flashed a smile at him, as she threw her empty cup away and headed down the sidewalk toward him.

"Hey there, handsome customer," she said.

"Hey there, beautiful cashier," he returned. They began walking down the street together.

"So Jenna, any idea of what would be good to eat?"

She thought for a second. "There's this great little Chinese carryout place nearby. They have a bench outside, and we could eat there."

"Sounds good to me."

They settled into a comfortable walking rhythm as they headed down the street. The silence between them wasn't awkward, but John felt that he should start some sort of conversation. "So, Jenna, what are you up to when you aren't working?"

"Well, I go to school part time. I also enjoy collecting old records and discovering music I haven't heard of before. Sometimes, I even wish I was born a couple of decades earlier, so I could have experienced the music I love as everybody else was first experiencing it. I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I'll be quiet now."

John chuckled. "No, it's okay. Despite all of the politics and social problems, most of the last part of the 20th century was a good time to live in."

"I get the feeling you have some pretty strong thoughts about the politics and social problems don't you John?"

"You read me so well."

Jenna and John shared a laugh, and they fell back into a slightly more comfortable silence.

The restaurant was a hole in the wall place about five blocks from Randazzo's, squeezed between a pizza place and a deli. If Jenna wasn't walking with him and pointing it out, John didn't think he would have noticed it. As they walked inside, the woman at the counter looked up. Her face lit up when she recognized Jenna, and she gave the old woman a warm smile. Wordlessly, she turned and went back to the kitchen. John was confused by the exchange, and Jenna noticed.

"She prefers not to speak too much. Her English isn't all that good, and she's embarrassed about it," she whispered quietly.

"How do you know?"

Jenna shrugged. "We've talked about it before. Usually, she just goes and gets one of her sons when customers come in, but one night we struck up a conversation."

The old woman came back to the counter with a couple of bags of food. She pressed a couple of buttons at the register, and the price flashed up on the screen. Jenna reached into her bag for her wallet, but before she could pull out cash, John had already handed the woman some cash. She gave him his change, and gave them a broad smile and wave good-bye.

Once they were outside, Jenna turned to John. "Thanks for covering dinner, John."

"Not a problem, Jenna. I was the one who invited you out in the first place."

Just as they sat down, John's phone rang. He looked at the caller id, and sighed.

"Munch," he said, answering the phone.

He listened for a couple of minutes, and said, "Okay, I'll meet you there in a half hour."

"Jenna, I'm so sorry, but I've got to go. Duty calls," John said, slipping his phone back into the holder.

"I understand John. It's okay," she replied.

He took out a small notebook and pen. "Here, write down your phone number. I still want to take you to dinner sometime."

She took the pen, and quickly wrote down her number. Handing it back to him, she said, "Is it clear? I've been told I have the handwriting of a doctor."

John smiled. "I can read it just fine. I gotta go. I'll call you."

With that, he began walking briskly down the street to pick up his car. Jenna, meanwhile, was left in the middle of the sidewalk, holding two Chinese dinners. As she thought about it, she realized that her tea wasn't sounding as good as eating some Chinese take-out, and that she wouldn't be able to eat both meals. But, she knew who would want to enjoy it with her. Pulling out her phone, she quickly dialed a familiar number.

"Hi Mom. Have you eaten yet?"

45 minutes later, Jenna was in front of her mother's front door. Her mother lived in Brooklyn, in an old brownstone that she and her stepfather had bought. According to historical documents, the brownstone had housed many movers and shakers in the early 20th century. Her mother was a historical buff, and she had practically bought it on the spot. Her mother and stepfather spent two years restoring the home, and Jenna loved coming over to visit, or even just to do her homework in her their beautiful book-lined study.

Her stepfather was out of town on business, and her mother had mentioned a couple of days ago that she was bored. Coming over with dinner made perfect sense.

She raised her fist to knock, but the door opened before she had the chance to.

"Jenna, baby, it's so good to see you," her mother said, as she wrapped her arms around her. Her mother, Abigail Messter, was a journalist, and had recently landed her dream job, as a writer for the New York Times. Abigail had gotten pregnant with Jenna while she was still in college, and had vowed that she would prove to her unborn daughter that you can do anything you set your mind to. She earned her degree when Jenna was a toddler, and had never stopped going.

"It's good to see you too, Mom," Jenna said, returning the hug, and putting the bags of food down. Abigail took the bags into the kitchen, and began heating food up in the microwave while Jenna took off her shoes, and hung up her jacket. From the kitchen, her mother called out to her.

"Jenna, do you want a glass of wine?"

"Sure, Mom. Do you have merlot?"

"Of course, dear." Abigail smiled, as pulled a couple of chilled wine goblets out of the freezer. She and her daughter both preferred their wine cold and the bottle she bought hadn't been sitting in the fridge long enough. Jenna came in, and poured the wine as the microwave began going off. She took the wine to the table, while Abigail followed close behind, with two hot plates.

All through dinner, Jenna was surprised that her mother didn't ask how she ended up with two meals, instead of one. Abigail had a knack for knowing exactly what to say to pull the story out of her daughter, and it was a bit strange that she hadn't said anything. Instead, they chatted about just about everything else, from the weather, to their jobs, to Jenna's plan to go to Boston to visit her father for a couple of days during spring break from school. As the meal went on, Jenna began to think that her mother was just going to let her questions go unasked.

Instead, the question came while they were doing dishes.

"Jenna, how did you end up with two dinners tonight?" Abigail asked.

Jenna swallowed hard. "Well, I was supposed to eat them with someone else. No offense, Mom."

"None taken. Who was it?"

"It...it was a customer at work, Mom. He wanted to have dinner with me."

"Do you know him?"

"Yes, he's been coming in for a long time."

There was a long pause, as Abigail washed and Jenna dried. Finally, Abigail turned and looked at her. "Jenna, honey, let's sit down."

She dried her hands, and led her daughter to the library. They took a seat on a black leather couch. "Baby, don't you think it's a little soon to start dating again?"

"I...I don't know, Mom. It feels right, but at the same time, a little wrong. It makes me wonder what Rob would say."

"What would he say, sweetheart?"

Jenna started to cry. "I don't know, Mom. He'd want me to be happy, I know. It's just so hard to be happy without him. But, this man could make me so happy."

Abigail pulled her crying daughter into a hug. "You have good judgment, Jenna Arsetti. You have quite a few people in your life that can give you sound advice. I know it's hard to navigate, but just take it slow. You'll do the right thing."

Jenna sniffled, as she started to calm down. "Okay, Mom. I will."

John and Fin ended up at a 24 hour diner around 2am, exhausted after a long, unexpected night of work. Fin, settling on his choice, closed his menu and put it down on the table. John had a menu open, but he was staring out into space. His partner had seemed a little distracted tonight. The sarcasm and wise cracks he had grown to expect out of John had been muted tonight. As the waitress came by and took their order, Fin vowed to find up what was up.

"Look, old man, what's up with you? You've been distracted all night."

"What are you talking about? I'm not an old man."

Fin rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean, man.

His partner paused. "You're right, I am distracted. Let's just say there's a person on my mind."

"A woman, you mean."

"Yes, mind reader, a woman. I almost took her out to eat tonight."

"Did you chicken out or something?"

John rolled his eyes. "No, you called."

Fin chuckled. "So, what's up with her? How'd you meet her?"

"She works at a grocery store. She seems like a sweet girl. It's just..."

"What?"

John sighed. "There's just something in her eyes, her demeanor. It's like she was hurt before."

"You think some dude beat her?"

"No, nothing like that. More like emotional pain."

Fin nodded, and thought for minute. "Be gentle on her, John. Take it slow and easy."

Just then, their food arrived. As Fin reached for the ketchup, John nodded. "That's the plan, man."


	3. Chapter 3

That night, Jenna stayed at her mother's house. She and her mother had managed to polish off two bottles of wine, and, when foolishly combined with the medicine she had taking for her cold, she was in no shape to get herself home. They had been watching movies in the den, and although she could easily fall asleep on the sofa as Abigail had done, there was something about being in her childhood bedroom that left her feeling safe and sound, despite living in a very unpredictable world. The stairs were narrow and pretty daunting in her drunken state, but the sensation of being secure was very appealing.

Her room was pretty small, but cozy. The walls were a soft combination of brown and pink. Although most of the posters she had hung were taken down, the faint outlines where the paint had faded were still there. Her bed, desk, and dresser took up most of the space in the room. She didn't have too many clothes at her mother's house, but she always kept a spare pair of pajamas, a couple of changes of clothes, and some personal products there for times like this. She took off her clothes, draped them over the desk chair, and pulled on her pajamas. Settling onto her window seat, she stared down at the city, which was quiet, but of course, being New York, it was still busy by most standards. The window seat was her favorite part of the room; she had always found it a great place to sit and look out at the world around here. So many great experiences and great days had begun and ended on that window seat.

In just a few minutes, Jenna found herself struggling to keep her eyes open. For a moment, she seriously considered falling asleep on the window seat, but past experiences had taught her that nothing good could come of it. Deciding that for tonight, she could skip brushing her teeth, she pulled back the blankets, and fell into bed. In her slightly drunken pre-sleep haze, she couldn't help thinking about John. Was there even the possibility of a relationship with him, considering their age difference and life experience differences? Would he accept her as she was, or would she have to fit his perfection mold? And, what about him? When she found out everything there was to know, would she still be genuinely interested? Would being with a cop be a good idea, with the constant possibility of another relationship ending too early?

But, most of all, she wondered if he'd call.

John finally made it home around 3am. Despite the fact that he was exhausted, it was still going to take him a few minutes to unwind. A cup of green tea always helped settle him, and in less than five minutes, he was sitting on the couch with his tea and an Italian chocolate chip cookie from his earlier trip to Randazzo's. With nothing good on TV and being too tired to concentrate on a book, he quickly finished his tea, and headed down the hallway to his bedroom. The bedroom, like the rest of his apartment, was pretty sparsely decorated. A king size bed took up most of the room, along with the matching nightstands and a dresser. He left his clothes on the oversized arm chair in the corner, and pulled on his pajamas. Within minutes, he plugged in his cell phone, pulled down the blankets, and laid down. Reaching over to set his alarm, he glanced at his scratch pad with Jenna's number on it, and smiled. Despite the fact that he and Jenna hadn't been able to have dinner that night, he knew that he had another shot at dinner with her, and was hoping they could make it happen.

Despite his optimism, he couldn't help thinking of his past relationships. Four wives and countless relationships later, and he still didn't have the secret for making things last. It seemed like every time he got close, fate or his own stupidity would interfere, and the relationship was doomed. In his head, he knew that the time for having a happy relationship was starting to come to a close. What if the beautiful cashier was his last chance? He certainly couldn't risk messing it up, if it was indeed the case.

He couldn't help wondering about Jenna. She was a sweetheart, both inside and outside work, but he couldn't help thinking about that sad look he had noticed in her eyes. He was desperately resisting the urge to do research on her, as he knew that it would be unfair to them. If he wanted to build a healthy friendship or even a relationship, he needed to play fair. And, Fin was right; he needed to move slowly. After all, even in the best of circumstances, rushing relationships wasn't a good idea. Between that and the baggage he was sure they both carried, slow and steady was going to win the race for sure.

He would call her tomorrow, and process of creating a relationship would begin. He smiled at himself, rolled over, and fell asleep.

The next morning, Jenna knew she was hung over before she opened her eyes. That familiar empty stomach feeling was a telltale sign, and was usually her only hangover symptom. She sighed, as she opened her eyes, kicked back her blankets, and grabbed her cell phone off of her desk. Nobody had called overnight. Normally, Jenna was happy that her phone didn't get any activity; it meant that nothing, good or bad, had happened. Today, though, she felt a slight letdown, and the realization came over her that John probably wouldn't call. She internally shrugged; it was a long shot anyway. Slipping into her slippers, she padded out the door to find her mother. It was time to get some breakfast.

Two hours later, Jenna and Abigail were having a leisurely breakfast at one of Abigail's favorite restaurants. The eggs Benedict was delicious, and between that, the warm muffins, and the fruit, they were in food heaven.

"Your hangover getting better, sweetie?" Abigail asked, as she sipped some coffee.

"Yep. It always does after I get some decent food in me."

"You got lucky, babe. Your dad gets the worst hangovers. Thank goodness you got those traits from your dear old mom."

They chuckled in unison as they went back to their food. Suddenly, Jenna's phone started ringing. She looked down at her phone, and frowned.

"What's up, sweetie?"

"Nothing, I just don't recognize the phone number. I'm sorry, mom, but I've got to take this."

Her mother nodded in understanding, as Jenna lifted the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

There was a pause, and then, "Oh, hey John. What's up?"

Abigail looked up in mild surprise. She caught her daughter's eye, and there was a silent understanding that it was THE John.

"Oh, I'm so sorry you had to work late."

Jenna put a bite of breakfast into her mouth as she listened. Then, she smiled. "I had a good night. I hung out with my mom."

Abigail picked up her phone, and began checking e-mails as her daughter talked. "I'd like that too, John. Have you ever tried the Wildflower Cafe?"

Another pause. "You haven't? It's fabulous! How's 6:30?"

At that point, Jenna's smile grew. "I know that corner, John. I'll see you there."

Jenna put her phone back down, and looked up to finding Abigail grinning at her. "So, your first date got rescheduled?"

Jenna groaned. "It's not a date, Mom. We both agreed it was just dinner. Besides, weren't you the one telling me to take it slow last night?"

Abigail rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Touché, hon. Just let me know if you need help choosing an outfit for your 'first dinner'.

"Hey, Olivia."

Olivia Benson looked up from her computer toward John. It was a slow Sunday in the squad room, and John and Olivia were taking advantage of the quiet to take care of some paperwork. They had mostly kept to themselves that day, and although she wouldn't say John startled her, she was definitely surprised at the distraction.

"What's up, John?"

"Lady problems."

Olivia chuckled. "So, you're defining alimony payments as lady problems now?"

John rolled his eyes. "No, it's not that. In fact, it's a problem that isn't really a problem yet."

She was intrigued. "What do you mean?"

"How do you take it slow with a woman, without crossing into friendship?"

"Am I really the person you should be asking? Relationships aren't really my thing."

"You're the only person I thought of to ask."

Olivia sighed. "I don't really think there's an equation for it. If you're really interested in this woman, you don't want it to cross into perpetual friendship, but depending on the woman, you also don't want to rush it. Why do you feel like you should be taking it slow?"

John took a minute to collect his thoughts. "I don't really know her well yet, but, and I know it sounds cliché, there's something in her eyes. Somewhere, she was hurt."

"Well, without knowing her, and you not being able to put a finger on it, I would just be slow and cautious. If she's comfortable, she'll probably start to open up."

John nodded, and they returned to their work.

"Hey, John," Olivia said, a couple of minutes later.

"Yeah."

"One piece of advice, though: don't dive into your conspiracy theories too early. You don't want to scare her off," Olivia said, with a teasing smile.

"So, Jenna, gonna tell me what happened Friday night?"

Jenna looked up, and sighed. "Thanks a lot, Lauren. Got to count all this money all over," she said, rolling her eyes at her friend.

Jenna and Lauren were two of the four head cashiers that worked for Randazzo's. They were one step above cashiers, but not quite total managers. They had been working together Friday night, when Jenna had called up to the office almost breathless, asking if Lauren wouldn't mind her leaving early. Because they were having a slow night and not much left to do, Lauren hadn't minded, but she was bound and determined to get to the bottom of it. Randazzo's closed early on Sunday nights, and they were both upstairs in the office, getting money ready to be deposited on Monday, and doing end of the week duties. It was the perfect time to pull the information out of Jenna.

"You'll live through it, Jenna. Now, dish. What was going on?"

Jenna took a deep breath as she figured out how to word her response. "I was going to go to dinner with someone."

"Oh, did your mom pop in? You should have told me; I love your mom."

"I love her too, but no, it wasn't my mom. It was...um... you know that one detective that comes in every once in awhile?"

"Yep, I know him. Tall, thin, pretty sarcastic, right?"

Jenna nodded. "It was him. He asked me to dinner, and before I could even really think about it, I was saying yes."

It was Lauren's turn to lose track of the money she was counting. "You two had a date?"

"Well, we agreed it was just dinner. And, unfortunately, it never really happened. He had to go to work."

"Did you guys reschedule?"

"Yep. Next week."

Jenna and Lauren had been close for years, but ever since she lost Rob and the baby, it was hard for anyone to connect with Jenna. Lauren glanced over in her direction. Jenna faced away from Lauren, sipping on a Diet Coke, as she balanced cash register drawers for the day.

The office was silent for a few minutes, except for the sounds of adding machines. Lauren looked up. "You know, he was one of the few customers who seemed genuinely worried for you, with everything that's happened."

Jenna looked up, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Despite his sarcastic exterior, I think he really cares."

Jenna sighed. "I think so, too. It's just nerve-wracking to even imagine having dinner with a man right now."

"That's what you have to think of it as. It's just dinner for now. Everyone's gotta eat. Why do it alone?"

Jenna nodded. Her friend was right.

"Now, "said Lauren, with a smile, "What are you planning to wear?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Jenna, when you asked for an opinion on an outfit, I didn't plan to see a fashion show. And, how did you manage to fit your whole closet into a duffel bag, anyway?"

There was a restroom door separating them, but Lauren could practically see Jenna rolling her eyes. "It was one of those clear bags you vacuum out. My mom and I thought it would be funny," she retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"What are you talking about?"

"There was a commercial on for them last night. You pack them, and the vacuum sucks out the air, and...oh, never mind. So you really liked the first outfit better?"

"Yes, I really did. Perfect for a first date."

Jenna opened the door, and stepped back into the back office at Randazzo's. Her outfit was just right for dinner at the Wildflower cafe. In khakis, a black undershirt and a pink sweater, and a pair of black ballet flats, she wasn't over-dressed, or under-dressed. A touch of make-up, and a simple necklace completed the look. Between her, Abigail, and Lauren, they had hit the perfect ensemble.

Lauren went back to her desk, as Jenna went to the closet to get her coat. A couple of minutes later and no Jenna, Lauren got up, and peeked her head around the corner. Jenna was staring at herself in the mirror attached to the closet door, a couple of stray tears running down her cheeks. Seeing Lauren's reflection, she quickly dried her eyes, and turned to find her coat. It was too late, though. Lauren opened her arms, and pulled Jenna in for a hug.

"What's up, hon?"

"Just flashing back to my first date with Rob. We had been friends for a long time, but he asked me out when we were fourteen. My dad offered to buy a new outfit, and my mom took me shopping and to lunch. She helped me with my hair, and even let me get made up at Macy's. It was a good day," she said, with a wistful smile.

"He was a really good guy, Jenna."

There was a pause, as Jenna pulled away, and began fixing her makeup. Lauren headed back to her desk. A minute later, Jenna came around the corner once more with her coat on, duffel bag and purse in hand.

"Is this right, Lauren? Is it too soon for this? Is this what Rob would want?"

"Rob would want you to be happy, Jenna. If this dinner is making you happy, then it's right."

"You're right, Lauren," she said, as she opened the door. "If only I could convince the butterflies in my stomach."

"Geez, John, what's the matter with you today?"

"What are you talking about?"

Elliot put the coffee pot down, and turned around to face him. "The coffee is edible. And, you haven't made a snide comment all day. Seriously, are you sick or something?"

John chuckled at his concerned expression. "No, I'm fine. Just a little lost in thought today."

"So, I've noticed."

Elliot went back to his desk, as John turned his head back to his paperwork. "So, gonna tell me what's up, or am I gonna get lost in thought, wondering what you're lost in thought about?"

John rolled his eyes. Telling Olivia and Fin had been one thing, but Elliot? Implicitly, he didn't really want to say anything. Knowing it would come out soon, though, John decided it was best to just say it. "Well, I've got a dinner tonight," he said, trying to phrase carefully.

"I've got dinner too. Tonight and every night, as a matter of fact. I'm just normally not lost in thought about it."

John sighed. It felt like all of the snide remarks John hadn't been making lately had somehow became Elliot's responsibility. "If you must know, and clearly you must, it is with a woman. And, honestly, I'm a little nervous about it."

Elliot was pulling on his coat; he was due in court and already cutting it pretty close. Seemingly forgetting his conversation, he was already out the door, when John looked up, surprised that there hadn't been a retort. With a sigh, he returned to his work.

Fin, having heard everything, put down his pen. "So, you talked her into another date, huh, John?"

"Fin, please no more sarcasm. Elliot has topped my quota for the day."

Fin nodded. "I know, I heard. But, seriously, why are you all in your head about this?"

"We talked about this before. I need to take it slow with her, but I'll be damned if I can find a solid definition of what exactly 'taking it slow' means. I mean, I've been frustrated with plenty of women in my life, but never before anything has even started."

Fin chuckled, as John shot him a dirty look. "I'm not laughing at you, man. It's just that I don't think there's a man in the world who hasn't wondered the exact same thing."

"Some guy ought to take pity on men everywhere, and give us one," John muttered, returning to his work, as Fin chuckled.

"Got all dolled up for me today, huh, Jenna?"

Jenna looked up in surprise. Dressed in her casual first date outfit, her clothes weren't a far cry from what she usually wore. Her psychologist, Dr. Feldman, just flashed her a teasing smile. He was recommended to her by her ob/gyn, as he felt incapable of helping through her mental anguish from the events of the past six months. She wasn't sure of what to except, but the minute she met him, and he told her to call him Matt, she felt comfortable almost immediately. His office was small and sparsely decorated, but the wall of windows provided a beautiful view. The sun was going down, and the city was bathed in twilight.

"How do you mean?" she responded, shifting on the beige microfiber couch. Matt took off his glasses, and cleaned them with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Hair's down, make-up's on, you're out of your uniform...need I go on?"

Jenna rolled her eyes. "Nothing gets past you, huh Doc?"

"Nope, not usually," responded Matt, with a chuckle. "Now, tell me what's up."

She paused, uncomfortably. "It's...Well, I have a thing tonight."

"A thing?"

"Um...well, if my mom was here, she'd call it a date. But, we agreed it was just dinner."

Jenna had spent the last 5 days trying to come up with a way to weave John Munch into her session with Dr. Feldman. At first, she didn't feel the need to bring him up at all. In all honesty, she hadn't excepted him to call, and was nearly positive that when he said that he'd call her, it was out of politeness. He had surprised her when he called the next morning, and she had been happy to make plans with him. Fortunately, her cold had finally gone away, and she was looking forward to the night ahead.

Even with her cautious but infectious excitement about her dinner, she hadn't expected herself to just spit out the news. When she was nervous, she had a tendency to beat around the bush, and she was positive that this would be one of those times. She was surprised at how quickly and bluntly it came out.

Dr. Feldman's expression had changed from neutral to surprised, and it looked like he was trying to take all in. Jenna tried to make light of the situation. "Don't look so surprised, Matt. My work apron, despite being butt-ugly and often covered in gelato and fruit juice, can be one hell of a guy magnet. The cold I had last week only made me more attractive."

He smiled at her attempt at humor. "So, smeared gelato is his turn on. That's a new one for me."

They shared a chuckle, and then the room got quiet again.

"Jenna, how does dating again make you feel?"

Jenna thought about it for a minute, frowning. "Well, I'm excited, but I'm scared it won't work out. I'm nervous, because I've never dated anyone but Rob. I'm worried that I'll become too clingy, or too standoff-ish, and that it isn't going to end well. Just so many things."

Matt nodded. Her concerns were valid, and rambling was typical of Jenna. What worried him, though, was that her late fiancé, Rob, seemed to be an afterthought. Discussing the accident that claimed Rob and her miscarriage was tough to talk about during their sessions, and he was sure she wouldn't bring up on a first date. Her date might though, and he wondered if it was going to be more then she was ready to handle. After all, the engagement ring Rob gave her still sat on her finger. That was bound to raise some questions.

The silence bothered Jenna, and she squirmed in her seat as she turned to check the clock. Five more minutes. Hopefully, she'd make it downstairs and outside before John showed up. The location was central for both of them, and the restaurant was only about a block away, but she didn't want John to see her come out of the building. She didn't want the gentle, yet prying questions, and the wondering looks he would shoot her way. There would be plenty of time for that later, when she knew him better. For now, she just wanted light-hearted fun and conversation with the handsome detective.

Their session ended silently, with Matt and Jenna lost in thought.

As John arrived at their meeting place, he saw Jenna walking out of a building. It was the first time he had seen her out of her work clothes, and despite being dressed casually, she looked stunning. She smiled at him, and headed his way.

"Ready to try this dinner thing again, John?"

"Yes, I am. And, I'm sorry again about how things turned out last time."

"No worries, John. I understand. I'm pretty much on-call all the time too. But, I can work things out over the phone most of the time."

The Wildflower Cafe was a popular, but low-key restaurant. Most of its advertising had come from word of mouth, and twenty years after it opened, it still had a solid client base, with new people checking it out all the time. Jenna had discovered it after her first visit with Dr. Feldman, and usually popped in after her sessions to grab a cup of coffee and a snack. Sometimes, even when she didn't have an appointment with Dr. Feldman, she'd stop in for a meal after work. When she found out the John had never been there before, she immediately suggested going there, and trying out their dinner menu.

John opened the restaurant door, and Jenna gave him another big smile. It was a pretty quiet night, and John and Jenna were able to get seated quickly. They both took off their coats, and hung them on the hooks, on the edge of their booth. The waitress came by almost as soon as they got settled in their seats.

"Hi, I'm Alison, and I'll be your waitress tonight," she said cheerfully, as she arranged water glasses, silverware, and menus in front of them. "Do you guys already know what you want, or do you need a minute?"

"We're going to need a couple of minutes," John said, with a smile. Alison nodded, and she walked off to another table.

John and Jenna studied their menus for a couple of minutes, as they decided. Once Alison noticed that they had decided, she hustled back to their table to take their order, and put it in at the kitchen. Taking a sip of water, John broke the silence.

"So, Jenna, just out of curiosity, what happened to the Chinese food?"

She took a sip of her water. "I ended up having a girls' night in with my mother. Between that, movies, and some merlot, we were very happy ladies at the end of the night."

"A girl that's easy to please. I like that," he said, chuckling.

There was a pause, and then it was Jenna's turn to break the silence.

"So, John, have you been a New Yorker all your life?"

"No. I lived in Maryland up until 1999. I retired from the Baltimore Police Department, and came here. How about you?"

"New Yorker all my life. The only times I leave are when I go to visit my dad."

"Where does he live?"

"Boston."

There was another pause. Jenna felt uncomfortable; this was starting to feel like a date instead of just a dinner, and she simply wasn't ready for it. She had never been happier to see a waitress then when she spotted Alison heading toward them, balancing two plates. Turkey chili had never looked more appealing, and she dug right in. She could feel John's eyes on her, which only intensified the discomfort. She looked up, and right into John's curious eyes.

"Jenna, is something wrong? You seem a little subdued tonight."

"Just some butterflies in my stomach," she half-lied.

The conversation picked up through the rest of the dinner, but the discomfort was still there. As she ate, the butterflies in her stomach kicked it up a notch. She could feel herself start to get a little dizzy. She began to sweat, despite the fact the restaurant was at a comfortable temperature. Slowly, she put down her spoon, and began to slide out of the booth. John looked up. "Everything alright, Jenna," he asked gently.

"I'm okay. I'm just going to the restroom. I'll be right back."

He nodded, and Jenna slowly made her way to the bathroom. Once inside, she wet a paper towel and wiped her face, momentarily not caring about ruining her makeup. She looked at herself in the mirror; now that she was alone, she could let it all hang out, and the tears started to fall. She locked herself in the restroom, and slid down a wall, trying to regain her composure. If she could just get herself under control and get through the rest of the dinner, she'd be okay.

She was so focused on calming herself down that she didn't notice the knocking on the door, and the voices of John and Alison on the other side.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys- Sorry for the shorter chapter, and the delay. Things have been nuts lately in my world. I appreciate all the alerts and the reviews . Hope you enjoy!**

John knew something wasn't right the moment he saw her face. He gave her a few seconds for a head start, and got up and followed her to the restroom. Through the door, he could hear her unabashedly crying. He sighed, and then felt someone tapping him on the shoulder. He turned around, to find Alison looking at him, confused and uncomfortable.

"Sir, um... is there something I can help you with?"

John sighed. "Unfortunately, my date is in there. She hasn't been looking good, and now, well, as you can hear, she's crying."

"Oh my God, is there anything I can do for you?"

"Could you get me a glass of water? I'm going to try to get her to unlock the door."

Alison nodded, and went off. John, despite feeling bad about the upcoming invasion of Jenna's privacy, knew that he needed to find out what was wrong. He knocked gently on the door. "Jenna, is everything okay?"

There was a pause as the crying stopped, and she blew her nose. "John, um, I'm okay."

He didn't believe her. "Can you unlock the door, sweetheart?"

There was a moment of silence, and the door opened. She looked horrible. Her face was red from crying, and her mascara was running down her cheeks. She was crouching with her back against the cold tiled wall.

John sat next to her on the bathroom floor, and put his arm around her. She rested her head on his shoulder. As her breathing calmed down, he decided it was time to get his answer.

"Okay, Jenna, what's wrong?"

Jenna hung her head. "I'm sorry, John. I...it was just too much too soon."

"What happened to you, Jenna?" he asked quietly, as he gently moved her hair back to look at her.

"I lost my fiancé, recently. Everything has been overwhelming. Even a dinner, I guess," she said, with a half-hearted chuckle.

"Why did you two break up?"

Jenna took a deep breath; John wasn't going to let up. "We didn't break up. Okay, there's no easy way to say this...he's dead. He's been dead six months."

Surprise and pain came over his face. He put a hand on her knee. "Jenna, I...I didn't know. I'm so sorry."

"It's nothing you could have known about."

She sighed, and they both started to stand up. "I'm sorry I ruined the night, John. Maybe I should just go home," Jenna said, with a sad look on her face.

"Are you going to be alright," John asked gently.

"I'll be okay. Again, I'm really sorry."

They began to make their way back to the table. He touched her shoulder, and she turned around. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Jenna. Can I call you again?"

She gave him a small smile. "Yeah, I'd like that."

She gave him a tentative hug, gathered her things, and walked out. John sat back down, and began picking at his food, with a heavy heart. Of all the things that had crossed his mind, this scenario had never occurred to him.

Michael and Abigail Meester were curled up in their den, reading, when they heard an unexpected knock at the door. Exchanging a curious look, they both rose and headed toward the front door. Abigail got on her tip toes, looked out the peephole, and gasped.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

She didn't respond, but whipped the door open. Standing on the front porch was a sobbing Jenna. Abigail opened her arms, and Jenna made a beeline into her embrace. Michael kissed the top of Jenna's head, and gently guided the two women inside.

"Fin?"

"What's up, old man? How's the date going?"

"Let's just say I don't think I've ever had two incomplete dates in a row, with the same woman nonetheless," John responded, with a sigh.

"How do you mean?"

"Halfway through dinner, she excused herself to the bathroom to cry."

"John, I told you to save the conspiracy theories. No wonder, man," Fin said, teasingly.

"First of all, some of my theories are very valid. Second of all, I wish it was that easy...," John sighed, as he trailed off.

Fin sighed, too. Something was seriously wrong. "Okay, man. Spill your guts."


	6. Chapter 6

Michael sat at the kitchen table, nursing a rum and coke. His wife was in their study, comforting his stepdaughter, and he decided it was best to give them space. From everything that Abigail had told him, Jenna's dinner with John should have gone smoothly, if not a little awkwardly. Jenna showing up at their house in tears was a sure sign that it hadn't.

From the minimal amount of information he and Abigail had been able to gather, the dinner quickly morphed to a date, which was much more then Jenna was prepared to handle. And, she cried in the restroom, which wouldn't have been so bad if John hadn't caught her. She had no choice but to let her private pain all hang out to a nearly complete stranger. It had been hard enough for her to speak to him, Abigail, and her father. He couldn't even imagine the pain she had felt, telling this man, John.

He shook his head. Jenna didn't deserve any of this pain, and yet, there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

Hearing a vibration, Michael looked up from his glass. It was Jenna's cell phone, sitting in its charger. Curious, Michael got up and checked the caller id.

"John," he murmured. He wasn't sure why, but he picked up the phone and answered.

Abigail sat on the window seat in her daughter's bedroom, watching her sleep. Once Jenna had calmed down a little bit, Abigail guided her up the stairs to her bedroom. As she helped her daughter get undressed and into a nightgown, Abigail flashbacked to the bedtime ritual she had established when Jenna was a newborn and Abigail had been an unsure new mother. With Jenna's father already working long hours to support them, most of the child-rearing fell on Abigail's shoulders. Despite her fears, giving her daughter a bath, reading to her, and rocking her to sleep had been second nature.

Watching her daughter sleep, she couldn't stop thinking that this was not how she had envisioned her daughter's life, all those years ago. On the surface, all was well. Her daughter had gotten a job as soon as she could and had been putting money away. She was excelling in school, which made both her parents and Michael proud.

Then, there were times like this, when Abigail would cry with rage. Her little girl didn't deserve to deal with such heavy loss so early in life. Worse yet, there was nothing Abigail could say to make this better. Situations like this were never covered in any parenting handbook.

As she got up to go to her bedroom, she gave her daughter one last sad look. On her pillow was a note from Michael, saying that he had gone for a late night jog. This wasn't out of character for him; he tended to enjoy late night or early morning jogs because the sidewalk wasn't so crowded. Abigail put on her own nightgown and lay down in bed, although she doubted sleep was going to come easily.

Forty five minutes later, Michael was sitting in a 24 hour Starbucks, with John Munch sitting across from him.

"So, I'm pretty sure Abigail and Jenna would kill me if they found out I'm trying to fight one of Jenna's battles for her," Michael said, with a slight chuckle, as he stirred some sugar into his coffee. The upcoming conversation would be tough; working a bit of humor in seemed like a good idea.

"The secret's safe with me, Michael. And, I appreciate this little meeting," John responded, taking a sip of his tea. "I'm at the point where I'm extremely curious, but I also want to respect her boundaries, but I don't want to ask in what I feel is a gentle way and see her crying in the women's restroom again.

"It's a horrible sight, man. Jenna tends to keep her emotions to herself, but when she lets go, it's...well, it's horrible. Although, I should warn you, considering everything that's happened, sobbing in a bathroom is a pretty low key response," Michael said, shaking his head.

"So, what's happened?"

"Well, I'm assuming she told you her fiancé is dead?"

John nodded.

"Here's the thing...it was a nasty death. As in body bags and lawsuits. I knew that boy since he was thirteen, and I didn't recognize him at the morgue," Michael said, shutting his eyes, as though he was trying to suppress the memory. Try as he might, he could not forget that day.

He had rushed to the morgue as soon as he got Jenna's frantic phone call. It wasn't like her to call during the day, but her mother was out of town; he was pretty sure it would just be light conversation.

"Hey, Jen, what's up?"

All he heard was tears. "Jenna, what's wrong, sweetie?"

"Daddy," she gasped. "I really need you."

Michael's heart dropped, and his stomach flipped. Jenna never called him daddy.

"Jenna, this is Michael, sweetie."

"I know, but I really need you. I'm at the morgue, and...," he voice trailed off. Michael felt a sense of unprecedented amount of panic. He raised his hand to hail a cab, as a male voice came over her phone to fill him in.

John eyes clouded over with sadness. "What happened to him?"

"He was hit by a cab. The cabbie didn't see him until it was too late."

John took a deep breath and shut his eyes for a minute. "I can't even imagine it. I mean, I see it every day, but for her to just be at work, and to get that phone call...," he trailed off, taking a sip of tea.

Michael swallowed hard. "Well, that's not exactly what happened."

"What do you mean?"

Michael looked out the window, into the darkness. He sighed; it was clear the accident still bothered him. "Jenna was two steps behind him that day. She saw everything, and she blames herself."

John didn't even bother to mask the horror, as Michael proceeded to answer the unasked question. "They had some silly fight. It was over the dishwasher, I think. He left angry, and she followed him down the stairs, and out the door. He tried to cross against traffic, and...well, when I went to be with her, I could see the handprints on her arms from where the paramedics had to pull her off of him," he said, choking up a little. "My little girl, with her smeared make-up and handprints on her arms...it's something I'm never going to forget."

He paused and took a sip of his coffee, gathering his wits. "Look, John, you seem like a nice guy. I can see why Jenna likes you, and I think her father and mother will like you too. But, she's got this darkness about her that will probably never go away. Her depression will probably fade, but it's never going away. The woman I knew last year is never going to completely exist again, and it's too bad. Everyone should have gotten to know her."

Michael paused and shut his eyes, trying not to cry. John took advantage of the moment. "Michael, I promise you that if I get another chance with Jenna, I'll do everything in my power to make sure she never feels that level of pain again."

Michael's eyes were open again. "That's all I needed to hear," he said.

They stood, and walked out into the night.


End file.
